


Muse

by StrawhatsAndDelibirds



Series: Modern verse [5]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:08:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21846220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawhatsAndDelibirds/pseuds/StrawhatsAndDelibirds
Summary: Writing is hard, so make someone suffer with you.
Series: Modern verse [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571110
Kudos: 15





	Muse

Deadlines had a way of sneaking up on you. No matter how well prepared you were before hand, no matter how ready you were to work, it was always going to sneak up on you. 

Sabo groaned as he spun in his chair. How was it that he was daydreaming about this stuff just hours before, but now that he was at his desk and ready to write, none of the words would come cleanly. They all had to come with some sort of fight.

He poked at the pile of energy drinks and assorted coffee. He had the scenes when he was waiting in line for these. Why did their magic wear off as soon as he got home? Why couldn’t they give him at least one hour of good ideas for writing. 

Maybe the issue was that he wasn’t in motion. How was he supposed to think if he wasn’t in motion. That had to be it. Just a quick walk around the building and he would be good. His creative juices would be flowing in no time. 

Throwing his key in his pocket, he headed out the door. No progress would be made if he didn’t put at least some effort into this. So he’d power walk down the stairs, and to the end of each of the halls and back again. All while trying to keep in mind this elusive adventurous pirate who would not stay in his head long enough to cooperate with plot of any kind at any point. 

It was absolutely awful. He knew that if he was real he’d be smiling smugly at him and asking him how he couldn’t do any of this. With the kind of face that he’d like to knock clean off. With a storm of some sort. Or better yet a mutiny. What was worse than having your own closest allies betray you for you latest act of jackassery. 

His trip back up was more of a sprint than anything. He had it now. His next plot point was firmly in his grasp and there was nothing it could do to get out of it. That bastard was going to be tossed into the cargo hold all tied up and forced to reflect on his hubris, because he forgot what this was all about. He was too caught up in the glory that he forgot about the freedom and how important his friends are. And now he had to be punished for it. 

Finally some writing could happen, and there was nothing that could stop him now. His opened his room and ran right to his computer and started writing. Now this was the part of writing he adored. As the thoughts flew through his head and onto the page, it felt so right and empowering. A world of his own creation that he could control the amount of fucked up it was and how and when bastards got punished and forced to reflect. Whether they got to live after was another matter entirely. 

Words turned into sentences, and sentences into paragraphs. Soon the taunting word count flashing at the bottom of his screen was doubling and tripling. Soon it was in the thousands and still climbing. There was no way that he wasn’t going to make his newest deadline. This chapter was in the bag.

Or at least, that’s what he thought was going to happen, because soon a frantic Luffy ran into his room. Maybe this was just a matter of hiding from someone. There was still a chance that he could keep working, and this would all end up fine for him. 

“Sabo.” Goddamnit. “Ace burned all the pasta for supper and is trying to blame it on me. He even started a fire!” 

Well, if there was fire, then he had to be involved in this. That bastard pirate mused smiled smugly back at him. Joke’s on him, because when he gets back that fucker’s gonna get kicked in the ribs by all his former crew. 

Reluctantly, he left his computer. Hopefully he’d still be in the zone when he got back. 

He got out there, and stared down Ace who was sitting on the couch. He hoped that Ace knew how in the zone he was prior to this bullshit. 

“Hey Ace why the fuck did you burn all our fucking spaghetti.” Because that sounded like something you had to actually try to do. Like actually effort to start a spaghetti fire.

“Did Luffy not tell you about how I left him in charge of the pot while I went to pee? Because it was fine when I left it, and it was on fire when I came back it was.” That made a little more sense, because Ace knew the signs of burning. At this point both of them knew because they were both well acquainted with fire. 

He turned to face Luffy, who had fortunately followed him out so he wouldn’t have to kick him out later.

“You’re a little shithead, you know that right?” He used the low voice of judgement. He deserved it right now.

“I never claimed to be helping.” Yep, that sounded like Luffy alright. Unfortunately, Sabo wasn’t done with all this. He turned to face Ace.

“But how do you get pasta to burn that fast? Unless you used the bathrooms on the first floor or something.” Which was definitely possible. Not likely, but possible. He also deserved the low voice of judgement, so Ace would get some too.

“I dunno, I did pasta normally, but this time there was fire.” Sabo sighed. He was done dealing with this whole situation. There had to be someone more qualified to deal with this than him.

“Luffy, call your chef friend and have him come here and figure out how this all went tits up. I’m gonna go finish up my writing. Order me whatever when you do it.” That felt like a solid way to check out of this trainwreck. Hopefully stop the next one from happening. 

He’ll go back to his room and see if he can finish this chapter. 

He put his hands on his keyboard in hopes that the words would come like they would before. 

But this fingers did not tiptap, and his brain did not go. Instead he was sitting there in hell, with no hopes of redemption. The words were gone and he wanted to scream. His head hit his keyboard, typing more than he foresaw himself writing in the near future. 

Goddamit all. 


End file.
